


Your Regular Decorated Emergency

by putyournamehere



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Depression, Drabble, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-18
Updated: 2016-07-18
Packaged: 2018-07-24 20:44:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7522435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/putyournamehere/pseuds/putyournamehere
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Depression, like the silent fever of the mind. A monster in its truest form, Iwaizumi learns.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your Regular Decorated Emergency

**Author's Note:**

> Yoyoyo this is yet another mental health fic from me but I really needed to vent bc of something that happened to me a few weeks back. So have more of me putting Iwa-chan through awful, horrible pain! It's just a drabble but I hope you enjoy it
> 
> TW: suicide attempt, talks of death and depression
> 
> Title from Camisado by Panic! At The Disco

 There were a lot ways a person could react to surviving suicide. Pain, anguish, hopelessness, fear of the unknown, bewilderment; even the relief of survival was an occasional visitor. You could follow textbook recovery examples, where you tell a friend, go to your doctor, follow the inspirational path to a better life. Everything would fall into place just as many stories said they would.

 

Iwaizumi didn't feel anything.

 

On Thursday morning, he woke up in a bleary state, covered in his own vomit and a bottle of half-drunk cleaning product. He got up, cleaned up the vomit, cleaned his teeth and got in the shower before putting his clothes in the wash. Then he put on his uniform and waited for Oikawa so they could walk to school together.

 

He felt nothing.

 

How was everyone so damn _happy_ _?_ Everyone was laughing and motivated, ready to take on the spring tournament, ready to take on the entire world. Even those who weren't on the main team were smiling and ready for the future. How did they manage it? How could they manage so much emotion when Iwaizumi felt like he was filled with nothing but sawdust? Suddenly he felt hurt. It hurt to know that he was in this alone. But the emotion fled as soon as it had arrived and once again he was filled with a stark emptiness.

 

Over the following days, Iwaizumi followed the same robotic actions, same routine that got him through the days on the bare minimum and nothing more. He took notes in class, he spiked volleyballs, he ate lunch with the third years and spoke at least a few times although his throat felt like it was sewn shut. He got by just fine, but his mind was static.

 

His mother noticed of course, asking if he was coming down with sickness at his lack of focus, but she didn't press when it was clear Iwaizumi had nothing to say. Oikawa noticed too, but he was a little harder to shake. It didn't pass through Iwaizumi's attention the boring stares, the toned down voice, the way Oikawa kept just a little bit closer to Iwaizumi. 

 

"So what's been up with you then, Iwa-chan?" Oikawa asked, dropping his bag at Iwaizumi's bedroom door. He had come over with the guise of helping Iwaizumi study, as he always did.  

 

"I've just had a really shit few days, Oikawa." 

 

"Obviously," Oikawa stretched out like a cat on the bed, "but why?"

 

Iwaizumi shrugged as best he could laying spread on the floor. "Does it matter?"

 

Oikawa frowned at him. "Of course it matters. If you're upset I want to know."

 

Iwaizumi thought for a moment. He could tell Oikawa. It didn't feel as monumental of a secret as it should be. It felt like it should weigh on his shoulders, force tears out of him, have heartfelt confessions where they cling on to each other as they realise how close death could've been. Iwaizumi tasted the words in his mouth, _I tried to kill myself_. They tasted bitter. 

 

"What would you say counts as a suicide attempt?" He opted for instead.

 

Oikawa hummed. "Not the weirdest question I've been asked, but why exactly?"

 

"Just curious." Iwaizumi fiddled with the thread on his shirt.

 

"Well... I suppose anything where a person does something with the intention of taking their life? I don't know if there's technicalities or something."

 

Iwaizumi thought about the answer. Did he intend to kill himself? Or was it just an impulsive mind, desperate for escape. Then again, it would still be with the intention of death. He swallowed.

 

"Well I drank a bottle of cleaning product." There was silence. Oikawa shifted so he was looking over the bed down at Iwaizumi.

 

"Excuse me?"

 

"It didn't taste very nice," Iwaizumi went on, "it may say lemons on the bottle but it definitely doesn't taste like lemons." He stopped himself before he rambled, but he didn't dare look Oikawa in the eyes. The silence dragged on, Iwaizumi could feel Oikawa's gaze piercing into him.

 

"You're not joking, are you?" Oikawa stated.

 

"No."

 

"Shit."

 

"Yeah.

 

" _Shit,_ Hajime."

 

"Yeah." More silence spread through the room. 

 

"What do we do?" Oikawa whispered.

 

Iwaizumi stared blankly at the ceiling, "I don't know," he muttered, "I really don't know."

 

The time ticked on, neither boy able to bring the words worthy of the situation. They stayed like that until Iwaizumi closed his tired eyes and drifted into a fitful slumber.

 

* * *

 

Iwaizumi felt awful for telling Oikawa, not because of the way he handled it, but because of the burden that was now on Oikawa's shoulders. What did Iwaizumi expect to accomplish by telling him? To feel something? For a reaction? Whatever it was it didn't work.

 

"You have to tell your mother." Oikawa said the next morning as they walked to the park. It was a statement laced with false conviction. Oikawa wasn't a captain here, he was a friend who was completely at a loss for how to help someone close to them. Iwaizumi really did feel awful.

 

"What am I meant to say to her? She's busy enough as it is trying to support us, she doesn't need more to deal with." Iwaizumi replied.

 

"Hajime, you're her _son_. This isn't like a difficult homework question. You literally tried to kill yourself." 

 

Iwaizumi nearly flinched at the words. _You literally tried to kill yourself._ It had been mere days, but it already felt like he would never come to terms with his actions. Oikawa must of noticed because he slowed his pace to a halt. He said nothing but gritted his teeth, causing Iwaizumi to raise an eyebrow.

 

"What is it?"

 

"I-I-" Oikawa let out a shout of frustration, clenching his fists, "I don't know what to _do_. I don't know what to say I don't know I don't-" he stopped himself short and looked, for the first time in a very long time, helpless. "Why?"

 

Oikawa didn't have to specify, they both knew what he was asking. It was a dreaded question, one that Iwaizumi had been actively avoiding, even in his own mind, simply because he didn't know the answer. There was no way to word the colossal mass of feelings and thoughts and _damn gut-wrenching_ pain of being-

 

"Trapped." Iwaiuzumi mumbled, "I felt trapped."

 

Oikawa blinked. "Trapped? From what? How?"

 

Iwaizumi let out a frustrated growl of his own, scrubbing his hands through his hair and pulling. "I don't know! I don't- everything was closing in and it was inescapable and it just. I just felt like I wasn't right for this- for anything, for living and," he dropped his arms, as if exhausted suddenly, "it was my only option."

 

Oikawa froze for second before frowning in disbelief. "How can you say that? You could've talked to someone! Me, or Makki or Mattsun or your mother! Anyone, we're all here for you Hajime, how can you say it was your only option?"

 

"You keep asking me all this shit but I don't know, okay. I didn't stand a fucking chance against whatever this is." Iwaizumi sat down in the middle of the pavement, defeated. "I didn't stand a chance." He whispered. 

 

Oikawa stood awkwardly for a moment before slowly joining him, ignoring the stares of passer-bys. 

 

"We need to tell your mother." Oikawa said softly, finding Iwaizumi's hand where it had fallen to the ground. 

 

"I can't." 

 

"Why not?"

 

"What will she say, Tooru? I don't want her to cry." Iwaizumi admitted. Oikawa squeezed his limp hand gently.

 

"It'll be worse if she never knows. What if it happens again but this time it," he took in a sharp breath, "this time it kills you?"

 

"Would that be such a bad thing?" Iwaizumi didn't realise he'd said it out loud until he felt Oikawa's nails dig into his hand. He shook his head, looking away. "Sorry."

 

"Don't, just-" Oikawa released his grip, but bought his other hand to turn Iwaizumi's face towards him. "Please tell her. _Please_."

 

Iwaizumi swallowed thickly at the gaze that bore into him, jerking a nod. "Alright."

 

They stayed on the ground for an hour, Oikawa with his fingers around Iwaizumi's pulse just to remind himself of what he had. 

 

* * *

 

That evening, with Oikawa standing dutifully at the door, Iwaizumi explained to his mother what had happened. She didn't cry, but Iwaizumi could tell she wanted to. Her breath hitched and she clenched her jaw, closing her eyes for a moment to keep the tears at bay. But she didn't panic; Iwaizumi always admired his mother for that. "We'll get you help." She said softly, without judgement. That was what Iwaizumi needed, after all. 

 

* * *

 

The trip to the doctor's did nothing but instill a gnawing anxiety in him. His mother stayed a solid presence in the waiting room, but Iwaizumi was nervous. It wasn't the nerves that came before a big match or exam, it was more like a fear. Fear of the confirmation that something was wrong with him. Fear that this would change his life for the worse. 

 

His name sprang up on the board and his tried to steady his breathing. The doctor was nice, patient. She asked what ailed him, and his mother recited the events that had happened while Iwaizumi stayed silent, nails digging into the chair. His mother was asked to leave the room, and Iwaizumi had to stop himself from pleading like a child for her to stay. It was shameful, really. 

 

"It's for confidentiality, you see," the doctor said, "we need to give patients the space they need to answer some tough questions."

 

"What is it you need to ask me?" He asked, far more confident than he felt. 

 

The doctor shifted through her papers. "Do you think you're going to try and hurt yourself again? Any plans?"

 

Iwaizumi tensed, "that's a big question."

 

The doctor smiled sympathetically, "it is. But it's important that we know. Do you have any plans?"

 

Iwaizumi started rocking his leg. Was it best to answer honestly? He hadn't made any plans per se, but the temptation was there and he wasn't sure if he could stop it. "I don't know." He answered. Best to take the middle road. 

 

The doctor nodded slowly, as if she saw straight through the ruse he had pulled. "Well, in consideration of everything I think it's best that we make an emergency referral to the mental health services."

 

"You're not going to put me into hospital or anything?" Iwaizumi asked.

 

"We could only do that if we knew you were in immediate danger to yourself or others. But we will put some urgency on the referral considering what has happened." The doctor continued on about what to expect, but Iwaizumi had mostly zoned out. He wasn't sure what to make of what was going to happen. 

 

A couple of weeks letter he received a call from the local mental health team arranging a meeting for a psychiatric assessment. His mother smiled gently at him, saying how he'd be alright. Iwaizumi wanted to throw up.  

 

* * *

 

"So," Oikawa murmured, "how did it go?" They had been given a brief respite before practice before everyone else had arrived. 

 

"How did what go?" Iwaizumi rummaged through his bag, "hey, did I leave my jacket at your place?"

 

"Sure did!" Oikawa threw it to him, "and I'm talking about your appointment, what else?"

 

Iwaizumi grimaced. "They asked me shit. I answered. It went fine."

 

Oikawa let out a dramatic sigh and draped himself across Iwaizumi's shoulders, "obviously if you're talking like that something's wrong, Mr Grumpy Face." He poked at Iwaizumi's frowning face before being shoved off.

 

"Shut up, dumbass." Iwaizumi thought for a moment before shrugging and talking quietly, "they think I have depression, that's all. They're going to see me again next week and they're going to talk with the psychiatrist about putting me on medication." 

 

Oikawa nodded, pulling on his t-shirt. "That doesn't sound so bad." His voice was a little strained. They both felt how the word 'depression' settle upon them. By calling it depression it made it something tangible, something real. Neither of them were sure how to deal with that. 

 

"They also want to tell my teachers here," Iwaizumi closed his locker and turned to Oikawa frowning again, "they think I'm at risk and it's important that the teachers know for my own safety."

 

Oikawa hissed, "well shit. Do you even have a choice?"

 

"I suppose not." That began walking together to the gym, "they're the experts on whatever is going on. It's not like any of us have ever gone through this before."

 

Oikawa hummed, "I suppose if it's meant to keep you safe then it's not so bad. But that's working on the assumption that you're going to try and hurt yourself again." The sentence left an unasked question. Iwaizumi didn't stick around to answer it as they approached the gym teachers. There were some things he just wasn't ready to admit. 

 

* * *

 

Iwaizumi remembers a time when he was four years old, and he swallowed shampoo while his mother gave him a bath. Oikawa had panicked, saying he might die and how he had to go to the hospital, how he didn't want to go to Iwa-chan's funeral. Iwaizumi had called Oikawa stupid for thinking such things; he obviously wouldn't die. He was stronger than that!

 

That night Iwaizumi had a dream; his friends and family were gathered around something in the living room, all in tears. His mother and father were sobbing and wailing, hunched over whatever it was. Oikawa stood to the side, completely silent as if he was too shocked to emote, with his mother gripping him tightly. Every one else whispered among themselves - "He'll never be forgotten", "he was too young to be taken", "may we always keep him in our hearts, "even now I still remember his laugh". They were all goodbyes in their own way.

 

Iwaizumi pushed his way through the gathering, everyone ignoring him as if he were simply a breeze in the air. He made his way to the center and looked down to find his own body, laying still in the coffin.

 

He woke up crying that night.

 

* * *

 

"Why do you pull away from people?" his therapist asked. It was a sunny day, warm colours filter through the window onto the wall, peeling away. Dust floats through and it almost feels peaceful.

 

"If I isolate myself, then the people who love me will forget about me." He stated. 

 

"And if they forget about you, it'll be easier for them when you leave?" She didn't need to clarify what 'leaving' meant. 

 

"Exactly."

 

The therapist hummed for a moment. "Tell me about your closest friends, Iwaizumi."

 

Iwaizumi blinked at the abrupt question. "My friends? I mean, they're great. They spend too much time on the internet planning pranks and laughing at age-old jokes." Makki and Mattsun were like the hyenas from _The Lion King_  sometimes, except much smarter, but the looks on their faces were the same every time they made Iwaizumi groan with embarrassment at their antics. Oikawa on the other hand was often the sorry victim of said antics, whining about how cruel they were, particularly after the _Hanger Tooru_ incident. But each one of them were strong, smart, kind and caring. They raised people up and protected at all costs. "They say they act like they don't care, but they really do." Iwaizumi smiled. The therapist smiled back.

 

"And do you think, Iwaizumi, that if one of them began to pull away from you, that you would simply forget them like they never existed?"

 

"Of course not." He answered instantly.

 

"But you think they would forget you, that easily?"

 

Iwaizumi went quiet. It was different with him. He was... he knew when he wasn't needed. When he stopped being able to help and inspire his team mates, when Makki and Mattsun and Oikawa could get on just fine without him. He knew that with time, they would heal from him leaving. He knew it was for the best. 

 

"Friendship is a two-way street Iwaizumi," she continued, "and you appear to think that they don't care about you as much as you care about them. But how would they prove that they care about you?"

 

"I don't know." He said quietly. She was tying him up know, spinning him with questions that she knew he had no answers to. 

 

She put her pen gently on the table, "Iwaizumi. I think you don't want to admit that they care about you because it would be easier to justify your own death. Is that correct?"

 

Again, Iwaizumi didn't answer. 

 

Their session ended and he was to come back next week. That night he thought of that dream he had when he was four. It felt too close for comfort.

 

* * *

 

Iwaizumi visits his father the next day. Sitting down in the field of the local cemetery wasn't easy, but at least he felt a little closer to someone who loved him and his younger siblings so dearly. He placed flowers from the local shop next to the grave. 

 

"What would you think of me, if you could see me now?" Iwaizumi whispered. The wind ran through the grass in answer. What would his father think? What would he think of this sadness, this depression? He was the first person in his family to be diagnosed with a mental illness. He had heard stories of people whose lives were ruined because of it, of mothers unable to care for their kids. That was the fear; that his illness would spread to those around him, like a plague of misery and emptiness. It was a fear he couldn't escape.

 

What would his father say to his mother, who had fear and apprehension in her eyes and the thought of leaving Iwaizumi in the house alone now? What would he say to his uncles and aunts that claimed he simply needed to go for a run, to eat healthy and he'd be cured? What would his father say to him, the son who desired nothing more than to end the life his parents gave him?

 

There were no answers to those questions. There never would be. 

 

* * *

 

"You realise there's no cure for this, right?" Iwaizumi says on their way to school. Oikawa stops whistling and turns to him.

 

"What do you mean?"

 

Iwaizumi shifts his bag, "I mean, there's no fix for depression. At least, no instant fix."

 

"But... what about the therapy? And the medication? Surely that'll help?" Oikawa asks, tilting his head.

 

"It'll help, sure, but it won't just make it go away. It's a possibility that I'll be like this for life."

 

Oikawa stays silent for a moment. "And you're alright with that?"

 

No, he wasn't. He didn't want to dip in and out of his depression. He didn't want to be saddled with this emptiness, this apathy and sadness and pain and inability to care for himself. He didn't want it. But with the many stories of people still suffering years after they'd received treatment, 30, 40 years down the line, Iwaizumi had began to accept the reality. There was no such thing as an instant fix. There was no cure whether it be therapy, people or pills. There was just learning to cope, getting by each day a little better. There was no beginning or ending, there was simply the journey.

 

"You'll know I'll be here no matter what, don't you?" Oikawa murmured. Iwaizumi stopped walking and looked at him.

 

"You have a much bigger life outside of me, Tooru, you don't need to stay behind to support me." Iwaizumi said.

 

Oikawa simply laughed, "silly Iwa-chan, you should know by now that wherever I go you're coming with me," he smiled and found Iwaizumi's hand, holding it tightly, "and wherever you go I'll go."

 

Iwaizumi paused, "even thought we're going to different universities? Kinda contradicts itself don't you think?"

 

"That doesn't matter. I'll still be there for you, just like you've always been there for me. I'm not just going to leave." Oikawa began walking, not letting go of Iwaizumi's hand for a second. "I love you, dearly." Oikawa mumbled, the tips of his ears turning red.

 

Iwaizumi turned his head away, his face turning red in response. "I love you too, idiot."

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, hope you had a good time. You can find me at metaphorical-pie on tumblr if you feel so inclined


End file.
